Points of View
by Gracie
Summary: Scully gets a flat tire and a knock on the head, Mulder gets a few years taken off his life, and *you* get to meet Valerie. : )


TITLE: Points of View 

AUTHOR: Gracie Kay 

DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Co. belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions (They made this!), unfortunately. 

ITALICS: Only thing I hate about Notepad . . . in place of italics, I'm using the less effective underscore (_) for both emphasis and thoughts. For emphasis within a thought, I'm using the asterisk (*). 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, this is my first submission to Fanfiction.net. Please review! This was written as an example of how third person can effectively show different characters' feelings/thoughts without the obnoxious "I." (Aw, what do you expect from a future English teacher? : ) I felt like a challenge and decided to use the X-Files. So, when reviewing, please don't say that basically the same thing happens three times (yeah, that's the whole idea) or that there are a lot of loose ends in the plot (because it's not _supposed_ to be a complete story). What I really would like to know is how you folks rate my characterizations of Mulder and Scully, etc. Again, please review!! 

Point of View: VALERIE 

Valerie frowned fiercely. "Real smart of me." How did she leave without checking the gas tank? "At least fifteen miles away from town. Real smart." With resolution she opened the door and stepped out, gazing down the long, barren road in both directions. No cars; but she really hadn't expected any. She started walking. "Might as well. I've got a long walk ahead." 

She saw the car first. A little silver one--she'd never been good with model names--it was parked on the side of the road, and as she came closer, she saw that the back tire was quite flat. Hmm. Then she saw, lying on the side of the road near the car, a person. Valerie sprinted up to the car and knelt next to the figure lying on the ground. The woman looked as though she had fallen there, and then Valerie saw the blood on her face, coming from a sizable cut on her forehead. Had she been attacked? 

Valerie was no expert, but she knew this woman needed help. She reached down, suddenly feeling clumsy and inept, to touch the woman's wrist. The pulse felt strong and steady, and she sighed with relief. She looked the woman over carefully but found no other wounds. She was short and redheaded and sharply dressed. Pretty, and not much older than Valerie herself. 

The mechanical ringing sound startled her, and then understanding dawned: the woman had a cell phone! After several rings, Valerie found it hooked to the woman's belt--and gasped. Whoever this woman was, she was armed. 

Valerie pulled out the antenna and pressed a button. Finding the holster on the woman's belt had shaken her up more than a little, and her voice shook as she said, "H-hello?" 

"Scully?" The voice was male, sounded young. And sounded suspicious. Obviously, Valerie's high-pitched voice did not at all resemble this woman's. 

Maybe this guy could help. "Uh, no, I'm, um, I'm Valerie Swanson. I--I found this lady on the side of the road--she's hurt, and I think she needs medical attention." 

Suddenly the woman opened her eyes. 

"Is she conscious?" The voice on the other end sounded really worried. 

"Uh, she's not very alert. She just now woke up, she's got a cut on her head, and--" 

"Can you get her to the hospital and I'll meet you there?" 

Valerie thought of her empty gas tank and looked down at the flat tire on the woman's car. "Well, I could, but--" Valerie paused to reach out a hand to the woman, who was slowly sitting up and placing a careful hand to her head. "Ma'am, don't try to move around, you could--" 

"Let me talk to him." Her voice was a little shaky, but there was no uncertainty in it. She held out her other hand for the phone. Valerie's guess had been right--the woman's voice was much deeper than hers. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, yes, give me the phone." The urgency in the woman's voice quelled any further argument from Val, and she handed the cell phone over. 

"Mulder--yeah, it's me. MacPherson's not alone, Mulder." She paused for a moment to listen, one hand still to her head. She must have an awful headache, Val decided, as the woman glanced at her and said, "Yeah, there's at least two of them, in different vehicles. When my tire blew out I pulled over to change it, and this big red van pulled behind me a few minutes later. He offered to help me with the tire, and I didn't see any reason not to accept assistance, so--" Again, she listened, then sighed. 

"No, no, I'm fine. He knocked me out, that's all." She reached back to feel her belt, then: "Didn't even take my gun. . . . No, I have no idea. He was heading south on this road when I had to pull over, but he could have turned around. . . . Um, Cook or Crooks or something." 

"It's Crooks," Val supplied, and the woman gave her a tight smile of appreciation. She was obviously not from around here! 

"Yeah, Crooks. No, I'll be fine. I'm gonna put on the spare and drive into town; I have a feeling there's no patching this tire. In fact, now I'm looking at it, I don't think it just blew out on its own." 

The pause that followed was ominous, and somehow Val got the feeling that for a moment there, the man on the other end of the line wasn't talking, either. Valerie looked at the tire, but she really couldn't see anything unusual. To her, it looked like a rip in the tire. Then the woman spoke again. 

"I don't know. I don't see how . . ." Another pause, then she sighed. "I'm sorry, Mulder. . . . Minnie?" 

Valerie looked at her curiously, wondering what that meant. Now the redhead was almost smiling as she said, "Oh . . . right." Without further farewell, she pressed a button to end the call and reattached the phone to her belt. 

She sighed and closed her eyes a split second, then turned her attention to Valerie. "I don't suppose you saw what happened?" 

"No, I'm sorry. I, uh, my car ran out of gas about a mile back, and I was just walking into town." Valerie was quite curious by now, but figured she shouldn't be asking questions, so she kept them back. "I only came up here a few minutes before you woke up." 

The redhead nodded and braced herself on the car as she stood up. For a moment she seemed to waver, but only a moment. She looked down at the flat tire once more, then seemed to find a resolution. 

"Well, you can ride into town with me as soon as we get this tire changed," she said, opening the trunk to get out the spare. She didn't even turn around to see if Val was willing to help; it was as though she just assumed Val would go along with her, though she wasn't really giving an order. Intrigued, or at least still curious, Val smiled to herself and pitched in. 

Soon the tire was ready, and the woman got into the driver's seat. There was an urgency about her in spite of her head injury, and she scrubbed the drying blood off her face with a Kleenex from the glove compartment as she drove. Valerie frowned. 

"Um, are you sure you should be driving? I mean, I could if you wanted--I do know the area. Just tell me where you're meeting . . . um, 'Mulder.'" Unusual name, she thought. 

"No, I'm fine." 

Well, maybe she would be, but right now her head had to be throbbing. Really, she should be lying down, and here she was driving a car. "Look, I'm not so sure--" 

"I said I'm okay." 

She was sounding a little testy, but Val couldn't let it go. "My mom's an R.N.--" 

"And I'm and M.D." 

Oh. Val shut up. No doubt about it--this lady could take care of herself; and besides, what was that Dad used to say? "You can't tell a doctor anything." 

But Val wondered if the characterization was fair as the redhead softened a little. She looked incredibly tired as she said, "Well, I guess I could introduce myself." 

Val just nodded, unsure of what to say. 

"Dana, Dana Scully. FBI. We're on a hot trail right now, so forgive me if I'm a little short, but . . ." She sighed. "I haven't got a lot of sleep lately." 

Valerie knew her surprise showed on her face. M.D. _and_ FBI? Wow. "Uh, I'm, um, Valerie Swanson. It's nice to meet you." Her face heated a little as she realized how idiotic she sounded, but at least the agent's eyes were focused on the road and not on her. 

And Dana Scully laughed then, although it was just a short chuckle, not full or relaxed. "Yeah, I'm sorry it's under such tense circumstances. But, ah, thanks for answering my phone." 

Now Valerie laughed herself, and the rest of the trip to town was much more friendly. 

Point of View: SCULLY 

The sound of a phone ringing brought her to awareness, slowly, like being pulled along a deep, dark tunnel toward sunlight. She fought to keep the darkness away, fought to remember what had happened. Now she heard a voice, just a few notes lower than a squeak. 

"H-hello?" 

_What? . . ._ She forced herself to full consciousness, although sleep would have been more comfortable, as the voice continued. "Uh, no, uh, I'm, um, I'm Valerie Swanson. I found this lady on the side of the road--she's hurt, and I think she needs medical attention." 

Scully's eyes snapped open. Someone had answered her phone. _Mulder--MacPherson._ She remembered it all with a jolt, suddenly realizing how much her head hurt. She sat up slowly and probed her own forehead with gentle but expert fingers. The cut was still bleeding. 

"Ma'am, don't try to move around, you could--" The woman was tall, her hair was long and blonde, and she was kneeling next to Scully, now reaching toward her. Scully's aching head finally cleared completely, and she interrupted the woman's protest. 

"Let me talk to him." 

"Are you sure?" That nervous, squeaking tone was becoming annoying, and Scully decided to skip the amenities. 

"Yes, yes, give me the phone." She held out one hand, the other still pressed to her head; and the woman, wide-eyed, relinquished the phone. 

"Mulder--" 

"Scully!" His voice on the other end was a welcome sound, although she wished this nervous, squeaky-voiced woman didn't have to hear every word she said. 

"Yeah, it's me. MacPherson's not alone, Mulder." Oh, great, this was really going to require some explanations to the blonde who was still staring at her. 

There was a pause as her partner absorbed the unexpected information. "He's got an accomplice?" 

She felt a sigh coming from deep inside her; a sigh of weariness as well as frustration. But she kept it back and answered him instead. "Yeah, there's at least two of them, in different vehicles. When my tire blew out I pulled over to change it, and this big red van pulled behind me a few minutes later. He offered to help me with the tire, and I didn't see any reason not to accept assistance, so--" 

"The girl who answered your phone said you were hurt, you needed help." 

"No, no, I'm fine. He knocked me out, that's all." She thought of something and reached back to feel her belt, then raised her eyebrows slightly in simple reflex. "Didn't even take my gun." 

She heard Mulder's heavy sigh over the line. "Okay, so where are you? You don't know what direction he went?" 

"No, I have no idea. He was heading south on this road when I had to pull over, but he could have turned around." 

"What road is it, Scully?" 

"Um, Cook or Crooks or something." 

The woman was still kneeling beside her, watching her talk, and it was unnerving. Still, Scully gladly received her input as she supplied, "It's Crooks." 

"Yeah, Crooks," Scully confirmed to him, remembering to offer an appreciative smile to the tall blonde even though she didn't feel like one. 

"You want me to come pick you up?" There was a hedge of worry in Mulder's voice. "Maybe you oughta take it easy, for a few hours at least." 

As if they had time for that. "No, I'll be fine. I'm gonna put on the spare and drive into town; I have a feeling there's no patching this tire." 

For the first time, Scully paused to look down at the tire. It wasn't just flat; it had a long, jagged tear in it. A tear that could have been caused by . . . "In fact, now I'm looking at it, I don't think it just blew out on its own." 

"You think someone shot a hole in your tire?" 

The thought was unsettling, especially since . . . "I don't know. I don't see how . . ." 

"Hey, we'll worry about it later. Why don't you meet me at the gas station at Crooks and, uh, Wolverine. Looks like he got away this time." 

She'd lost his suspect. "I'm sorry, Mulder." 

"No, no, it's not your fault. I'm just glad you're all right. I'll see you in an hour or so. And hey, ah, have Minnie drive." 

She frowned. "Minnie?" 

"Minnie Mouse. The girl who answered your phone." 

"Oh . . ." It was just Mulder again, but if he was still making jokes, the situation must not be hopeless. _Well, not necessarily._ She felt herself smiling. "Right." She pressed the button to end the call and replaced the phone on her belt hook. Suddenly, she felt a wave of weariness wash over her that could hardly be held back. How long had it been since they'd had a full night's sleep? Mulder had to be exhausted. 

She opened her eyes and realized they had closed, almost of their own volition. And she realized that she had sighed, after all. She turned to the blonde woman, who was still staring at her. 

"I don't suppose you saw what happened?" 

"No, I'm sorry. I, uh, my car ran out of gas about a mile back, and I was just walking into town. I only came up here a few minutes before you woke up." 

Nothing was going right today. Scully started to stand up but decided she probably couldn't manage it on her own. Her head was still pulsing painfully, but that was to be expected, so she tried to ignore it as she braced herself against the car for support. For a minute the whole world spun around her, then steadied. That mysteriously gashed tire drew her gaze, but she couldn't worry about that now. The important thing was getting the donut on in its place. There would be time to solve the puzzle later. 

"Well," she said to the woman, knowing that the silence was uncomfortable for this Good Samaritan, "you can ride into town with me as soon as we get this tire changed." She had already opened the trunk and procured the spare, and the woman didn't answer her, so she counted that as agreement. Although some sort of acknowledgement would have been nice. 

It wasn't long till the tire was changed and she was behind the wheel driving down Crooks, her companion still not in a talkative mood. Scully fished through the glove compartment with one hand and found a Kleenex to get some of the blood off her face, although by now enough was dry that it wasn't an easy task. 

"Um, are you sure you should be driving?" 

The question from the tall blonde in the passenger's seat startled her. Scully darted a glance at her and saw that she was frowning with real concern as she hastened, "I mean, I could if you want--I do know the area. Just tell me where you're meeting . . . um, 'Mulder.'" 

"No, I'm fine." If not for her headache, Scully might have smiled at the way the woman said his name. 

"Look, I'm not sure--" 

"I said I'm okay." This was getting old really fast. 

But the lady tried one more time. "My mom's an R.N.--" 

"And I'm an M.D." 

She was silent then, and Scully sighed. No need to be harsh with someone she didn't even know. "Well, I guess I could introduce myself." 

She felt a prick of regret for her severity as the blonde nodded without words. _The timid type,_ Scully almost smiled to herself. 

"Dana," she introduced herself, "Dana Scully. FBI. We're on a hot trail right now, so forgive me if I'm a little short but . . . I haven't got a lot of sleep lately." Not that it was an excuse. Or maybe it was. 

The young woman's eyes were huge. "Uh, I'm, um, Valerie Swanson. It's nice to meet you." 

_Likewise, I'm sure._ Scully found herself chuckling, and it felt good. "Yeah, I'm sorry it's under such tense circumstances. But, ah, thanks for answering my phone." 

Valerie seemed to relax then, and laughed with the same high pitch as she spoke. But somehow it wasn't as grating, and Scully smiled. 

Point of View: MULDER 

Mulder was frowning as he reached for his cell phone. Scully should have called him back by now. He hit the speed-dial and listened to her phone ring . . . and ring. And ring. Not like Scully . . . Finally, he heard a voice, but it was definitely the wrong one. 

"H-hello?" 

"Scully?" He'd said it before he'd thought not to, but he knew that this was not Scully. The voice on the other end of the line sounded like Minnie Mouse personified. 

"Uh, no, I'm, um, I'm Valerie Swanson. I--I found this lady on the side of the road--she's hurt, and I think she needs medical attention." 

_Scully!_ He tried to sound calm as he inquired, "Is she conscious?" 

"Uh, she's not very alert. She just now woke up, she's got a cut on her head, and--" 

"Can you get her to the hospital and I'll meet you there?" He had no idea where the hospital in such a little fleck of a town would be, but there had to be one. 

"Well, I could, but--" The voice paused, and he could hear her talking to someone nearby but could only catch a few words. "Ma'am, don't . . . move . . . could--" Then there was another pause, and she spoke again. Mulder heard every word this time. 

"Are you sure?" 

He was about to ask her what was going on, when the most blessed sound met his ears. 

"Mulder--" 

"Scully!" He had interrupted her, but he didn't care. She had no idea how many years had just been taken off his life by that squeaky-voiced girl. 

"Yeah, it's me." She sounded tired, but weren't they both, and she sounded grim, but didn't Scully usually sound grim? "MacPherson's not alone, Mulder." 

The words sent a spurt of adrenaline through him. This was more serious than they had thought. "He's got an accomplice?" 

"Yeah, there's at least two of them, in different vehicles. When my tire blew out I pulled over to change it, and this big red van pulled behind me a few minutes later. He offered to help me with the tire, and I didn't see any reason not to accept assistance, so--" 

He had to know, and like her she wouldn't tell him unless he asked. "The girl who answered your phone said you were hurt, you needed help." 

"No, no, I'm fine. He knocked me out, that's all. Didn't even take my gun." 

He sighed with relief. She was okay. "So where are you? You don't know what direction he went?" 

"No, I have no idea. He was heading south on this road when I had to pull over, but he could have turned around." 

"What road is it, Scully?" 

"Um, Cook or Crooks or something. There was a pause, then: "Yeah, Crooks." 

She'd been knocked on the head; she shouldn't be driving. "You want me to come pick you up? Maybe you should take it easy, for a few hours at least." 

"No, I'll be fine. I'm gonna put on the spare and drive into town; I have a feeling there's no patching this tire. In fact, now I'm looking at it, I don't think it just blew out on its own." 

He didn't say anything for a moment. "You think someone shot a hole in your tire?" 

"I don't know. I don't see how . . ." 

Whatever; the tire didn't matter right now. "Hey, we'll worry about it later. Why don't you meet me at the gas station at Crooks and, ah, Wolverine. Looks like he got away this time." It took some effort to keep his voice neutral on that comment, and her next words made him wonder if he had been able to keep the tension out of his voice as well as usual. 

"I'm sorry, Mulder." 

What, was she blaming herself? "No, no, it's not your fault. I'm just glad you're all right." She didn't know how glad. "I'll see you in an hour or so. And hey, ah, have Minnie drive." 

"Minnie?" 

"Minnie Mouse. The girl who picked up your phone." 

"Oh . . . Right." 

The fact that he had deigned to corniness was more than made up for by the smile in her voice. Before he could get the last word, there was a click and he knew she'd hung up. He held the phone in front of him for a moment or two and just looked at it, without quite knowing why. 


End file.
